In a mossy green chrysalis of stone, just barely visible through the less opaque parts of the crystal, a reptilian form begins to stir. The small creature inside is just barely awake, barely aware of it's surroundings as it sits right on the cusp of sleep and wakefulness. Suddenly, it tips past the edge of wakefulness. It's like a switch is flipped, the little hatchling's eyelids fly open and it begins scrabbling and scratching against the hard stone walls of it's prison. Bits of the chrysalis crumble off, but the mugger crocodile hatchling is unable to free itself. Yet.

The dog shook himself, trying his best to peer through the thick fog. It was always difficult, navigating Cetus--always through that curtain of mist blinding the eyes, the rank stench obscuring scent, the constant scream of birds and lapping of swamp mud overwhelming the ears.

His paws sunk to hock and pastern, leaving him slicked in brown and struggling to free himself, step by step. Each movement was accompanied by a rather disgusting squelch, and the dog rather wearily reflected that simply going to the lake for fresh water, in Cetus, was something of an ordeal.

He had come here to hatch his children. Raheerah had-

Scratch.

The black dog paused. His head cocked to one side, the wrinkles atop his brow furrowing.

Scratch. Crack.

It was a weak sound, a quiet scrabbling, a soft crumbling of stone, barely audible over Cetus' ominous din. I know that sound, he thought, thinking back--back to the hatching of White, the hatching of Sword and Crown. He tried, between the hair-raising screams of the Hallowed Callers, to follow the noise, hurriedly splashing along.

It took some searching: and it was a pretty stone, a small chrysalis that seemed threaded with living moss. Black inspected it, perhaps looming in forbidding silhouette as he sniffed it over, concern building in him. This was a child, and it was trying to hatch.

Very carefully, very delicately, he peeled back hanging lips to attempt to pick away shards of stone with his incisors, without harming whatever lay within. He paused, as he worked, to rumble a warning.

"Be careful. The stone may be sharp." He did not know if the child would understand, but the possibility that it might not wasn't an excuse not to say something. He hoped it wouldn't hurt itself, at least.

The black mastiff went back to plucking pieces free, oblivious to the fact that he stood near chest-deep in muddy water, forgetting his own thirst.

@Krozz

Feire

This time you're free; I know it's hard to believe.

Feire was not supposed to be here. A little glowbug had been doing loop-de-loops around the little fox’s head, distracting him from exploring the great halls of what he had heard some call ‘Polaris’. Truth be told, he thought it was a bit of a silly name.

Po-laaar-is. The tiny fox had yapped with delight at the way the word seemed to sparkle under his tongue. Seemed like it would be a bit awkward to talk about it in normal conversation though with all the fizzing and popping that word bought, so Feire just kept calling it ‘home’, even in his head.

It seemed less funny now, as the little, annoying glowbug had led him further away from Polaris than he had even been before. Feire had wanted nothing more than to crack the taunting bug in between his teeth, and then trot home all satisfied. The low roof of the tunnel he had been led down kept the bug from flying too far up, always leaving Feire one step behind.

But now, only when the bug kept flying up, and up and up and up-- did he realise how much trouble he had gotten himself into.

The mists had crept in with no warning, trapping the fox inside this strange, new arena with no bearings and no familiarity. The swampy ground sucked uncomfortably on his paws, the humid air already clinging thickly to his fur. Feire, in a childish haste to just get away from the bad thing picked a direction and ran.

He blindly galloped through Cetus, hearing... a strange voice. What looked like a big black shape stood over a strange... oval-like thing. Feire watched in fascination, his earlier perils forgotten, as the creature seemed to almost peel this stone, murmuring things under it's breath. His curiosity piqued, he lay down in a poor imitation of a hunter's crouch and held his breath, eyes wide.

Unfortunately, his balance was another question. With wide eyes and a squeak, Feire toppled into the mud, coating his fur with mud and other unmentionables. He scrambled up with a sqeak, attempting to get away from whatever he might've disturbed.

The hatchling's desperation to escape only increased as the huge shadow of a canine looms over it, still mostly buried in the stone cocoon. Danger! Danger! are it's first thoughts, as it stares at the at the very sharp teeth, too close for comfort. It's wild scrambling comes to a sudden halt as it hears a low rumble- not quite understanding the words themselves, but the general gist of it, at least.

The hatchling's struggle became less panicked and more organized. It looked around the green gemstone that trapped it the best it could, and began scratching and picking at the weakest part of the crystal. It makes sure to stay away from the mastiff's teeth, however, still slightly wary of the dog.

"Words Words."
Thoughts

notes: Got a posting table now hue hue >:3

coding by wulf for template purposes

tags: @Black @Feire

The dog turned, abrupt, as he heard the splash and the squeak close by. For a moment he tensed--and then he wondered, briefly, if it might be one of his children following along. But no: it was a small thing, reddish and dark with mud, scrambling upright.

It looked... afraid?

"I will not harm you," Black informed it, after studying it for a moment; and then he turned his attention back to whatever youth was struggling in the mossy chrysalis before him.

He pressed the small incisors to the shards, careful with his canines, and began to twist his muscled neck gently this way and that, again. This shard did not seem to want to break, and the black dog took one step back with a soft huff. He glanced to see if the fox kit was still there, and then to the small, dark form he could see twisting within the chrysalis.

"Yours is a hard stone. A tough stone. This is good," he informed the reptilian hatching slowly. "But do not fear - all children come free, in time."

He then set himself back to prying at the oddly-tough chrysalis, slow, steady, and as helpful as he could be.

@Feire

Feire

This time you're free; I know it's hard to believe.

Feire felt himself freeze under the gentle but powerful gaze of the black dog. It’s words were strong and wise, and though Feire did not feel completely safe just yet (in the caves, would he ever?) he felt his muscles relax under his flattening fur. Yes, the Gembound still struck an imposing figure, but the relaxing words and gentle precision that he broke apart the stone solidified him in Feire’s mind as something interesting rather than something to run from, tail between his legs.

He crept up to the stone, wondering what in it was so interesting that the larger creature worked on it with such focus and care. But then-- something inside of it twitched, and Feire was struck with an intense bolt of curiosity, that he couldn't help but peer closer, trying to make out the shape that was kicking against the gemstone.

It was something long and dark, and Feire just had to know what was inside. Clearly the black Gembound was on to something here, so Feire tried following by example, perhaps with a bit less dexterity than the older creature beside him. Using his teeth and claws, he scrabbled at the stone, finding it to be a mite harder than expected. Still, he carried on, and succeeded in breaking chunk after chunk out of the tough stone.







Thoughts!
"Words that come out of mouth"

@Krozz

With the help of the black mastiff and the fox kit, the hatchling's chrysalis finally broke enough to allow the hatchling to break free. The hatchling hastily scrambled out, scraping against shards of stone that luckily did not cut through it's tough scales. It institutionally bee-lined towards a large puddle of water, settling down so most of it's body was submerged in the muddy water, except for it's head. It then watched the large dog and the fox kit. It didn't run, but instead carefully watched the two from the safety and comfort of the mud puddle.

"Words Words."
Thoughts

notes: She's freeee

coding by wulf for template purposes

tags: @Black @Feire